Blind Love
by xxlostdreamerxz
Summary: Murdered by Voldemort, Hermione is sent back in time and meets Tom Riddle.
1. Chapter 1

**Blind Love**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP. **

**Summary: **A Hermione goes back in time and meets Tom Riddle story. I assure you it'll be original!

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**Chapter 1: Death is but a New Adventure**

_"Can you love a Murderer? Your own Murderer?"

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Her breath hitched as the Death Eaters unceremoniously dumped her tussled body down before Voldemort. _We…lost._ She shivered briefly as the Death Eaters' laughter whipped about her. _Harry had been the first to die…taken down by a group of Death Eaters. Ron had gone mad with grief and attacked the Death Eaters wildly. He died minutes later._ Hermione closed her eyes in pain, allowing herself one final prayer for her fallen friends.

"The Mudblood, m'lord," a Death Eater murmured, "She was the only survivor." He bowed reverently to his Lord before stepping back into the mass of darkly cloaked figures.

Hermione steeled herself as she heard the soft rustling of robes moving towards her. A burst of hysteria exploded in her chest. _Voldemort. Lord Voldemort._ She wanted to scream, to proclaim to the world how useless their exploits were. No matter what they did…their efforts would be useless. This man, this…_creature,_ had no heart. He would gladly break the world in pieces for his own glee.

_But she mustn't give up. Not after everything…_

"Interesting," the creature murmured, stopping about a foot away from Hermione. He swished his wand lazily and Hermione suddenly found herself standing upright, yet still bound, before Voldemort. He circled the girl, studying her expression…amused at how she was fighting to hide her fear. "So you are the brains behind Potter's little schemes."

Hermione lifted her head and saw, for the first time in her life, the face of Lord Voldemort. She almost gasped as she took note of his chalky white skin, dilated crimson red eyes, and slit nose. _Dumbledore was wrong. Tom Riddle had been nothing more than a monster dressed in the skin of man. He'd been Voldemort all along._

"And you are Tom Riddle," she challenged, knowing that without a doubt that he was going to be furious at her for her knowledge of his past. "A half-blood bastard…"

"Crucio." Voldemort held the curse for a full minute before lifting it. He stared dispassionately at the girl's crying, shaking form. "You shouldn't tell lies, Mudblood," he said coldly.

Hermione bit her lip in pain. "I'm not," she gasped.

The Death Eaters watched in anticipation, feeling their Lord's ire slowly rise. A few twisted smiles emerged on their faces as they recognized what was about to happen.

"Are you questioning me, Mudblood?"

Hermione spat at his feet, only to see stars when he violently backhanded her. _Kill me. Kill me. _She knew without a doubt that she was going to die. There was no escape; there would be no heroics this time; her heroes were dead. _Spare me the pain. _

"Of course," she whispered; her vision still blurry from the blow. "You're a monster and nothing but." Hermione gathered her Gryffindor bravery and continued forward. "You may think you've won this war. You may think that you can conquer the world now that the Light has fallen to pieces." Hermione tilted her head and almond met crimson. "But you're wrong. No matter how many people you get to play lip service to you, none of them will ever accept you. None will ever respect you."

"Crucio!" Voldemort bit out furiously. _ How dare she. _

Hermione raised her head, blood trickling down her chin, and gave Voldemort a bloody smirk. "It'll only be a matter of time before they revolt. It'll only be a matter of time before your followers and enemies turn on you and the world shall then have its retribution." She saw something flicker in his eyes, but she continued on ruthlessly. "You'll die alone. Die without anyone mourning your death. Alone…just like you've always been."

Voldemort's mind raced at the words as his anger mounted. _Her words sound so familiar? _He shook off the feeling, dismissing it without much thought. "Well said, Mudblood," he taunted. "You're just missing one little point. _I'm immortal_."

He raised his wand. "Well, I'm tiring of this conversation. Send Potter my regards," he smirked, seeing her eyes flare with anger.

"Tom…" _I hate you. _

"Avada Kedavra…" he hissed, raising his voice.

And everything went black.

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**Chapter Preview: Hermione goes back in time. **


	2. Showering Disaster

**Blind Love**

**By**: xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

**Note: **Sorry for the short chapters! And I assure you that the story will pick up speed later on.

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**Chapter 2: Showering Disaster**

With a dark scowl, Tom Riddle tiredly stripped off his robes, fumbling with boots and its many laces, before finally setting down his belongings in a neat little corner. For the past few hours, he'd been instructing a bunch of bumbling idiots on how to comfortably navigate their way around Hogwarts. _And the bloody fools weren't even first years!_ He reached out and grabbed a fluffy white towel off the rack and wrapped it around his waist. His scowl grew worse as his thoughts turned towards the fool who had been assigned the Head Girl position. _Mafalda Perkins._

Whilst not necessarily the smartest apple in the barrel, the girl was undoubtedly a workaholic who was determined to sink her claws into every "problem" that plagued the school. And added to the fact that he was her "partner" as a Head, he had been dragged into helping out with her self-righteous crusades on numerous occasions. His eyes darkened. If it hadn't been necessary for him to maintain his façade…Mafalda would know better than to pester him. Tom reached out and watched impassively as multicolored bubbles and sparkling clear water spilled out of the facet into the tub. With a stiffness that belied his tiredness, he climbed in and slowly sank down as the warm water ran trailed down his back.

_Merlin, I hate my life. _

Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath, while unconsciously getting into a meditation pose. His breathing slowly evened out as he began to strengthen his mental shields and organize his memories. His lips curled into a slight smile as he felt his shields become stronger and stronger by the second. If things were to go as planned, he'd soon be able to efficiently block any mental invasion…regardless of how strong or experienced his opponent was.

_Minutes turned to hours, as he sat there perfecting his shields. _

Tom remained so busy rearranging his mind that he managed to miss the dark figure emerging from a void near the ceiling; a figure that hung unceremoniously in the air, blood dripping off her robes, as the void wavered uncertainly before disappearing…and the figure, dropped downward like a puppet whose strings had just been caught.

Splash.

Tom let out an undignified yelp as he felt something soft land next to him in the bathtub.

He looked about wildly, a dark glint in his eyes, as he raised his wand threateningly…only to pause. _A girl._ A girl who was covered in blood, wearing torn robes, shaking like mad, and had a pair of very bruised and bloody lips. All in all, it looked as if she'd just been assaulted. Tom felt a jab of uncertainty jolt through him._ If I were to take the girl to the infirmary, chances were…someone might see him and jump to conclusions and my reputation would be torn to shreds. _His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. _But…if I helped, she'd own me a debt. And given my current situation, I needed as many mindless cannon fondler as he could get._

Tom climbed out of the tub, quickly snagging the towel about his waist. He tapped his wand thoughtfully. _Should I revive her? Or just haul her off?_ His thoughts were interrupted by a soft moan, as the girl was slowly roused to consciousness. He watched comfortably from a couple of feet away, as the girl struggled to open her eyes.

Almond brown met gray.

The girl released a sharp gasp, eyes widening to a ridiculous degree, as she took in his face. And instead of blushing in embarrassment once she realized that he was practically naked, the girl's pallor transformed into a sickly shade of white. The girl mouth opened and closed in shock as she seemingly tried to focus on the situation at hand.

"You're at Hogwarts," Tom said evenly. "I was taking a bath when you popped out of thin air."

The girl remained still, eyes cold and evaluating. The two of them studied each other silently for a couple of minutes, before Tom decided that it would be prudent to break the silence.

"Do you need a healer?" Tom queried, meeting her stare.

The girl's hand tightened on her wand, studying him with suspicion. "Who are you?" she demanded, ignoring his previous question. _No. How did this happen? I'm supposed to be dead. _"Well," she snapped.

He hid his shock at her audacity but allowed his lips to twist into a crooked smile. _And here I was, thinking that the bloody girl would burst out in tears upon finding herself alone with an unknown man after her…traumatic experience. Or if not that, start screaming bloody murder. _

Tom pursed his lip. "I'm Tom Riddle. Head Boy," he answered, ignoring her blatant hostility. "I'm in charge of helping the student population here," he explained. "And whilst you may not be a student, it would not be hospitably of me to allow a…guest…to bleed to death on the floor."

The girl's mouth twisted at the irony, but forced herself to remain calm. "I want to speak to Albus Dumbledore," she stated. "I'll go to the infirmary afterwards."

Tom frowned. "And what business do you have with Dumbledore?" he prodded.

The girl's eyes flashed defiantly but remained silent.

_What a stubborn little chit._ Tom raised his hands in mock surrender."Since you asked so politely…," he drawled, "I'll take you to Dumbledore."_ But not before I find out what you want._ In a flash, he met her eyes and sent out a mental prod…intent upon reading her mind…only to find…nothing. Disbelief coursed through his veins._ Why can't I read her mind? I can read everyone's mind save for Dumbledore's. _

"Well lead the way," she supplied promptly.

Tom gave her an unreadable look, before murmuring in agreement.

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Hermione's heart thumped loudly in her chest as she found herself being inspected by a half naked Voldemort. _I can't believe this is happening. _Her mind screamed mentally. She didn't understand how this happened nor_ why_ it did. Her wand hand trembled as she resisted the urge to curse the imminent Dark Lord. It didn't make sense. _The Killing curse was supposed to KILL me not send_ me back in time.

After a long minute, Tom turned away from her and transformed his towel into a robe. "Follow me," he said evenly, as he moved towards the door. Hermione hovered uncomfortably for a second, before treading out of the tub and following a safe distance behind the Head boy.

The two of them walked in silence through the corridors.

"So what is your name?" Tom prodded.

"Hermione," she answered stiffly.

"And your family name?"

Hermione's eyes darkened suspiciously. "I'm not liable to disclose such information given the current state of the wizarding world," she said evenly.

Tom's eyes turned cold. "Regarding the persecution of Muggles and Mud-Muggleborns?"

Hermione's eye ticked in annoyance. "Certainly not," she lied, angry that she had to lie about her origins. "My family prefers to avoid any attention from the media; thus, we don't enjoy proclaiming our relations." Upon inspecting Riddle's icy expression, she added, "We're purebloods, if that's what you're so concerned about." _Though only a hypocritical idiot like you would be blind and reject his own roots. _

"I see."

Tom's eyes glittered curiously as he filed the information away for later. _You can keep your secrets for now, but rest assured I'll know them within time. _He paused in front of a statue of a stone lion. _Candy Corn. Blood Pops. Chocolate Frogs._ At the last word, the lion roared loudly and his mouth grew larger until it roughly became the size of a door. Tom beckoned her forward.

"We're here."


	3. Time Turner Theory

**Blind Love**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.**

**Explanation:** Hermione was excessively calm during her first encounter with Riddle because she's a logical person at heart and not very driven by emotion. So given the situation, when she freaked out her mind came to her rescue and she was able to reason out the situation and act accordingly. Also, the remark regarding why Voldemort doesn't remember Hermione (well, I haven't decided how I'm going to write that yet) but for now, I'll just go with the fact that 60 years is quite a long time. And if you've lost someone close to you, most likely you'd want to repressed the memory of them. **  
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**Chapter 3: Timeturner Theory

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A thin sheen of sweat glittered on her brow as her heart pounded loudly in her ears. _Why isn't he answering the door?_ Hermione forced herself to remain nonchalant, as Riddle knocked politely again on the thick oak door. After all, the last thing she wanted was to accidentally garner Riddle's attention or worse, his curiosity. She swallowed nervously.

"It doesn't seem like as if he's in," Riddle stated, leaning lazily against the edge of the door. He gave her an even stare. "Perhaps Headmaster Dippet can help?"

Hermione's lip trembled. "No," she said uncomfortably. "It's rather private, mind you." She took a deep breath as her mind frantically searched for an explanation. "Uncle Al and my family are rather close…_were_ rather close," she corrected, feeling her chest constrict painfully at the memory of her friends. "I need his help regarding a personal matter."

Riddle's expression remained impassive. "I see."

"If you are needed elsewhere, you needn't wait up for me," Hermione said, trying to not sound too hopefully. "I'll just wait here for Uncle Al to arrive."

Riddle's lips twisted into a mocking smirk.

Seeing his smirk, Hermione was struck by how much the boy before her resembled Voldemort. _They had the same mannerisms and expressions._ Her hand tightened on her wand as she suddenly came to a startling revelation. The boy that stood before her was Voldemort…and not only that…he was Voldemort_ before he became Immortal._ A slight smile emerged on her face as she imagined avenging her friends.

_I'll think more on this topic later. _

"Though I am well aware that being in my presence can be tedious at times," he drawled, making Hermione's metaphorical hair stand on end at how familiar his tone was. "It wouldn't do for me to leave you by your lonesome in a deserted corridor._ Especially_ considering that you're most likely in danger."

Hermione couldn't help but snort. "Right…and you'll be my knight in shining armor?"_ Villain would be a more accurate description._

"Well, I am Head Boy."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm touched."

Riddle leaned slightly forward, making Hermione resist the urge to flinch. "You should be. After all, if it had been anyone else other than me who you'd…stumbled across," he said evenly, "You'd be lucky to escape being the object of yet another scandal."

Hermione's mind raced. _Surely the wizarding world couldn't have been so conservative sixty years ago. I mean…certainly the attitudes towards witches have evolved considerably since then. _

"Giving the current state of the wizarding world," he mocked, repeating her previous words, "You'd be lucky to not be labeled as a tart for peeping." Seeing her outraged expression, Riddle continued with an air of biting joy. "

"You're calling me a_ pervert?_"

This time Riddle's eyes glittered with uncertainty. "I've never heard a girl saying something so uncouth," he said, before regaining his smile. "But yes, I am."

"I wasn't peeping!" Hermione resisted the urge to puke. _The mere thought of peeping on him makes me feel sick. _

"Well, you certainly did fall into my bathtub, while I was unclothed mind you," he continued, his voice even though his eyes shone with amusement. Riddle couldn't help but enjoy the fact that though embarrassed the girl had yet to run screaming in the opposite direction. _But on the other hand, there was no possible way she had just been assaulted. After all, she wouldn't be able to stand such low banter without bursting into tears. _

Hermione flushed in both anger and embarrassment. "I wasn't peeping!" she repeated, her voice growing louder. "I…It…" she struggled to contain her emotions and come up with a workable story. "I…had just taken an emergency Portkey and it deposited me in the wrong place."

"Where was it supposed to take you?"

Hermione paused, "To Uncle Al's office."

"Uncle Al...?" Tom repeated, looking staunchly puzzled. "You mean Professor Dumbledore?!"

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Before Riddle was able to grill her for more information, there was a slight shuffle and thumping noise. Seconds later, the enchanted door suddenly opened and out stepped Albus Dumbledore. He had dark auburn red hair, a thick red beard, and familiar twinkling blue eyes.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Hermione cried, feeling her emotions come crashing around her her. Without bothering to analyze her situation, she ran over and threw her arms around the present Transfiguration professor. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you again!"

Dumbledore gently pried the shocked girl from his neck and held him at arm's length. His face took on a slightly puzzled expression before glittering with suppressed amusement. "Well, I am sorry that I was held up," he said gently, looking curiously between Hermione and Tom. "But I couldn't resist organizing my new sock collection again."

There was a short silence, as they both processed the Headmaster's words.

"Uncle Al," Hermione implored, knowing the Riddle was watching the scene. "I need to talk to you," she said, hiding her desperation, mentally praying that Dumbledore would go alone with the story. "Something terrible has happened…and I don't have anyone else to turn to," she whispered. "Please."

There was a short silence as Dumbledore considered her words. His eyes softened. "Of course, child. Do come in," he beckoned, holding the door open so that Hermione could slip inside.

"Wait."

Hermione paused, turning around to glance at Riddle.

He gave her an indecipherable stare before biting his lip thoughtfully. "We'll meet again," he said evenly._ After all, I need to figure out why I failed to invade your mind._ Without bothering to either acknowledge or greet Dumbledore, he turned around and began to walk away.

Hermione shivered, feeling for some reason that his words were more of a threat than a passing thought.

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**Dumbledore's Office

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Hermione's eyes trailed across the room, taking in the flamboyantly striped rugs, topped with a few purple plush sofas, and a few mahogany bookshelves. An unknown emotion swelled in her chest, making her suddenly feel faint with relief. _Oh dear god, she was finally safe._ There was no Voldemort to worry about; there was no certain death looming before her like disgusting specter. She slowly made her way to the plush chair in front of what she assumed was Dumbledore's desk and promptly sank tiredly into it.

_Dumbledore will help me change things. _

_He won't allow the past to repeate itself. _

_Surely not...  
_

The_ horrible_ images that she'd shoved into the back of her mind the moment she went into survival mode, slowly began to make their presence known. Her friends...Ron...Harry. She choked down her tears. _They deserved better than that. They shouldn't have been murdered. _Hermione's fingernails dug into the plush fabric, leaving tiny indents on it.

"There, there," Dumbledore said soothingly, as he handed Hermione a hankerchief. "Just let it out."

Hermione shook her head.

_No, I can't and won't let go of my ghosts until they've been avenged._

Dumbledore carefully studied the mysterious girl while she fought to regain control of her emotions. He had overheard the last part of the two's conversation...which was why he had decided to play along with her story. A slightly amused glint appeared in his eyes as he thought back to what she had refered to him as.

_Uncle Al. _

"My name is Hermione," the girl introduced, looking at him straight in the eye."You might not know me now, but you will in a couple of years," she explained, seeing his perplexed expression. Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully. "To be honest, I'm not exactly sure how to explain this to you in a way that won't portray me as a lunatic."

Dumbledore raised a brow at her confession. "Oh? And why's that?"

"Because I think I traveled back in time."

There was a short silence as Dumbledore's mind slowly processed the information. "How did you achieve that?" he murmured, speaking half to himself. "A time-turner surely couldn't have managed to send you back more than a couple of hours at most." He tapped his fingers against his desk as he pondered the situation further. "The last instance that I could think of regarding time travel has to do with a particular item in the Department of Mysteries...and from what I remember...that item had been accidently lost in the Veil."

Hermione's lips twisted into a sardonic smile. "Well...even though it's not a conventional way of time travel...I was hit by a killing curse."

"What?"

She nodded. "The last thing I remembered before waking up here was being killed," she said quietly, eyes downcast. "I don't know why I'm here. I don't understand...I should be dead shouldn't I?" looked beeshingly into Dumbledore's eyes.

The Transfiguration professor nodded solemnly. "I wonder..." he paused, giving her an introspective stare over his moon shaped glasses. "...have you ever used a Time turner by any chance?"

Hermione nodded jerkedly. "Yes, during my third year."

"How many times did u use it? And for how long?"

"Well...for almost a full year," she answered, frowning when Dumbledore 'ahh'ed' in realization. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Dumbledore smiled gently. "You've never heard of the Timeturner Theory have you?"

"No."

"Its simple really," he said, his tone changing into lecture mode. "Spell Crafters have hypothesized that you need to pay a price each and every time you turn back time. A price that differs per person." Dumbledore gave her an even stare. "Some believe that it would force you to relieve your worst memory time after time, helpless to do anything. Others claim that it would grant your deepest wish, only to warp it in such a manner that you'll live a life of regret." He shrugged lightly. "Like I said, its only a hypothesis. No one who has used a Timeturner has ever returned to be studied."

Hermione frowned. "But this isn't my worst memory, considering I haven't even been born yet, nor do I have any desire to remain in this era," she puzzled out as she sank comfortably into the sofa. "Does this always happen? I mean, do the Timeturners only collect their debt after the debtor has died?"

"No one is certain," Dumbledore answered. "But I believe that the price is different for every individual that choses to go back in time; thus, it is truly random when you'll be forced to "pay" your price." He tapped his fingers together, as he met her eyes evenly. "Nonetheless, there is one part of this hypothesis that has been proven."

"What?" she asked eagerly.

"For ever minute you've spent using the Timeturner, you'll have to repay a minuate back in this dimension," he said evenly. "And since you claim that you've turned back time for a year, you'll be stuck here for a whole year."

Hermione nodded. "And then what?" She swallowed. "What will happen to me then?"

"I don't know."

The girl closed her eyes and nodded bravely. "I see." There was a short pause, as Hermione sorted out her thoughts. "Regardless of what happens to me Professor," she said slowly, "I accept my fate. After all, if it hadn't been for my blasted attempt at using the Time Turner...I'd be dead now."

Dumbledore looked at her sadly. _So young, yet so jaded. _

She shook her head and forced herself to pay attention to the issue at hand. "Professor, there's something else that I need to tell you," she said, slightly uncomfortably. _After all, how does one go about telling a Professor that one of their students was going to grow up and become a homicidal monster?_ "It's about Tom Riddle."

And with that said, she promptly began her story about the future...

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**Chapter Preview: **Hermione's sorted.

**PLEASE REVIEW~***


	4. The Sorting

**Blind Love**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer:** No, I do not own HP.

**A/N: **Sorry it's been so long since I last updated, but hey what can I say college sucks. However, since it's summer...I plan on updating a ton of old stories that I'd "abandoned." So if you've read anything else I've written, feel free to check in every couple of weeks. I swear (this time) something will be updated. Anyways, thanks to those that have stuck with me for so many years. Hope you'll enjoy the chapter!

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**Chapter 4: The Sorting**

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She ground her teeth in frustration, resisting the urge to _glare_ at the smiling form of one Albus Dumbledore, who was presently seated at the Staff Table munching on a plate of chicken. Her heart clenched as she acknowledged, once again, that her one-time idol refused to aid her in her endeavor…claiming that Tom had not yet become Voldemort; therefore, her plans to quietly eliminate him were out of line.

Hermione sighed softly, moving to stand behind the line of chattering first present Dumbledore was so different from the wise, old man that she'd grown up admiring._ Though, I suppose it might have to do with the fact that he had yet to eliminate Grindelwald. _She leaned heavily on her left leg and closed her eyes tiredly.

_After all, murdering one's ex-lover would definitely change a person._

This Dumbledore was simply too idealistic. Tom could NOT be 'redeemed.' It was as simple as that. Her throat suddenly felt raw as memories flooded her mind; forcing her to actively quell her tears. _Why didn't Dumbledore understand? _She_ knew_ what that bastard was capable of. She had seen, first hand, the blood soaked streets that lay, silent as a tomb, after one of his raids. She had seen her friends murdered in cold blood.

_Can't he see why I can't simply forgive Voldemort?_

Hermione had offered to show Dumbledore her memories. She had wanted to prove to him, the bastion of the Light, that her plans were_ just._ She had wanted him to know, just like she did, what a monster Tom Riddle truly was.

_But he refused to look._

Uncle Al had giving her a slightly pitying look, before telling her that monsters were never born but_made._ It didn't matter to him what harm Tom could potentially do to the wizarding world. It didn't matter so long as there was_ hope_ that the boy could be redeemed. He had stated clearly that under no circumstances would he ever murder another in cold blood. _"Vengeance is dangerous path to travel, my child. If you aren't careful, you might get lost."_

Hermione's pursed her lip at the memory of his warning. It had hurt…seeing that Albus Dumbledore had been reluctant to see the good in her intentions. She wasn't evil; far from it, she was doing the wizarding world a favor by getting rid of the imminent Dark Lord.

_If I am blessed with the gift of changing the past, how can I allow myself to falter? There is so much good that I can do. There is so much that I can change. _

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice that Professor Bathsheba Babblings call her name out of the sorting. It wasn't until the professor sharply recalled her name that she promptly shook herself out of her stupor and moved to put on the Sorting Hat.

"Hermione DeLorit."

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"Ah...a time traveler," a voice whispered in her mind. Hermione stiffened as the Sorting Hat tightened its brim about her head. "Curious, indeed. How should I sort you this time around, Miss Granger?"

"Slytherin," she ordered. "Put me in Slytherin."

The Sorting Hat chuckled softly at her. "So eager to enter the snake den, are you dear?"

Hermione shook her head, keeping her voice low. "Not really," she muttered. "But it's my duty."

"A lion in snake's clothing. There does seem to be some sort of ironic justice in it," the Sorting Hat mused, rocking lightly on her head. "However, you do not have enough attributes to qualify you for the house, Miss. Granger. You will not thrive there."

Hermione frowned. "It doesn't matter," she said firmly. "Put me in Slytherin. While I may not be innately cunning, I_ am_ intelligent enough to adapt."

The Sorting Hat sat silently for a long, painful moment. "Very well, if you are certain Miss Granger...may you live out your days in SLYTHERIN," it said, booming the last word loudly about the Great Hall.

Gracefully pulling the hat off, Hermione stood and slowly made her way towards the Slytherin table. Her face was bright and filled with anticipation, but her eyes were cold. She had made her decision and there would be no turning back.

Slytherin it was.

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**A/N: Sorry for the lame ending, I'll try to have a new chapter out sometime within the next two weeks. Please REVIEW! **


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